The Projectionist
by OurLittleLives
Summary: One stumble down a set of basement stairs, and suddenly the dreams confined by Elle's imagination were projected into a reality before her eyes.
1. Chapter 1: Just Like the Snow

**Chapter 1: Just Like the Snow**

_"She is far, far away from me. She walks, in starlight in another world."_

December 24, 1940

Oxford, UK

Warm tears, uncomfortable hairpins, and the scent of peppermint. Those were the only tangible thoughts Elle could bring to mind as she sat in the front row of an old Anglican church on the outskirts of the Oxford campus. She wasn't entirely sure how long she'd been there, but she did know that she wasn't leaving anytime soon. She closed her eyes and felt more tears slide across her cheeks. She couldn't go back to her flat, not yet. She didn't think she could bare it, having to see her little sister, whose smile could illuminate the darkest of corners, stare emotionlessly at the wall in front of her bed. Part of Elle wondered if she and her sister should've been fine, if the tears should've ceased by now? Yet, here she was, reduced to shambles for the dozenth time that day. She took in a shaky breath and felt a sharp stabbing pain in her chest. Immediately, Elle was launched into one of her infamous coughing fits. They weren't pleasant to watch, nor experience, but Elaina Ashworth wasn't a complainer, so she swiftly reached for a handkerchief in her coat and held it over her mouth. When she lifted it away from her lips, dark red speckles painted the once white fabric. She swallowed and cringed at the sharp, coppery, taste of blood. That was never good. She raised her eyes from the handkerchief to look at the cross above the alter. She didn't understand why this had to happen. Why her parents? Why her brother? Why Kate?

Why _not_ Elle? She was the ticking time bomb. The one who was coasting through life on a mere miracle. Why did she survive when she was practically hanging on by a thread? Not that Elle saw it that way. Not at all. She had grown accustomed to the many doctor visits and the immediate surgeries. She didn't mind having to give herself a shot of epinephrine when she found herself wheezing for breath. She had lived with her condition for 26 years and by now it was simply a mere impediment. But still, she knew she didn't have much time, and that was just when you took her lungs into consideration.

Her legs were a different story entirely.

She heard the faint sound of someone clearing their throat near her, and she immediately turned her head to the left. There, in the pew, sat a middle-aged man with greying hair, slender spectacles, and a wooden pipe (which was unlit but remained in his mouth no less). His legs were crossed and his hands were placed neatly in his lap. He was staring at Elle with a twinkle in his eye and a furrow of his brow. Elle moved a shaky hand across her cheeks in an attempt to wipe away any of her fallen tears. She gave a soft smile and glanced around the empty church, partially expecting to find that someone else was the source of his attention. That wasn't the case.

"I'm sorry," Elle said, "Did you need something?"

"Ah," The man replied while uncrossing his legs and removing the pipe from his mouth, "I do believe it is you that is in need of... this... something."

The man readjusted his sitting position so that he was facing Elle. He was leaning forward slightly, with is hands clasped in a sort of prayer position. Elle couldn't tell if she was supposed to be amused or confused, because both emotions seemed quite plausible in her current predicament.

"Pardon me," Elle uttered before clearing her throat, "But what exactly are you talking about?"

The man looked towards the cathedral ceiling in mock-contemplation before saying, "You know I'm not quite sure either... handkerchief?"

Elle examined the delicate white cloth that the man had produced from his coat pocket. She grabbed the handkerchief with her slim fingers and whispered a thank you.

"I assume your's has seen better days," He stated gesturing to the now bloodied handkerchief that remained crumpled in Elle's other hand.

"Yes, I, uh, suppose it has," Elle replied while using the new handkerchief to dab at her eyes.

"Haven't we all," He mumbled while peering at the cross that hung above the alter. After a few moments of a calm silence the man added, "These are trying times Miss..."

Elle's eyebrows rose upon realizing that she hadn't introduced herself. She cleared her throat and held out her hand with a sweet smile, "Ashworth. Elaina Ashworth."

"Pleased to meet you my dear," The man replied while gently shaking her hand. "If you don't mind me asking," He continued, "What is a pretty girl like yourself doing here at this hour?"

Elle laughed under her breath at the question and shrugged her shoulders. "Well..." She started and then stopped. Elle for some reason couldn't find her words. Why was she here? Yes, she had just experienced tremendous loss, and she was grieving, but why here, why now? "I suppose that is a very good question..."

"Ah, well, grief is a strange creature Miss Ashworth," He replied.

A blanket of silence settled over the two once again. Elle examined her old handkerchief with a furrowed brow. As she looked at the blood stained fabric she felt a wave of realization wash over her.

"I'm dying," Elle whispered, but not in sadness. She said the words with a sense of cognizance. They were the embodiment of a fate she'd known for her entire life. Apparently it just took over twenty years for it to finally come to fruition. She turned her head so that she could look the man in the eyes. His eyes were brown. They were warm and kind, and for once Elle didn't feel as though someone were looking at her with sympathy, but with understanding.

"Is that so," He said. He didn't even sound surprised, and Elle found that to be... refreshing.

"Unquestionably so," Elle began, "They say I have a few months... if I'm lucky."

"And a wonderful few months they shall be," The man declared, his eyes not wavering from Elle's. She let out a burst of laughter. She wasn't used to these sorts of responses. She mostly received brief apologies and vague promises of hope. Never honesty. She liked honesty.

"I hope you're right," Elle chuckled, "Have we met before?"

"I don't believe we have, unfortunately so, I might add," The man replied.

"Actually, I think I've seen you on campus before. Are you a professor at Oxford?" Elle asked suddenly remembering a literature professor with a particular proclivity for pipes and handkerchiefs.

"Yes, I am, and you are a student I assume?" The man questioned.

"Uh, yes, I'm getting my Masters in History," She answered.

"Of course you are," The man said with a smile, "Favorite era?"

"That's like choosing a favorite child! But I've always loved the 1500's." Elle replied with a far off look in her blue eyes.

"Was it the knights in shining armor, or the kings in their castles that won your affections," The man joked.

"I always liked the dragons," Elle jested with a smirk, "Even though they aren't _technically_ real."

"Oh, of course how could I forget the dragons? A bit scary though, with their claws and fire breathing," The man quipped.

"Yes, I suppose. But that's why their intriguing... Don't you think." Elle mused.

"I believe I do."

The two sat in silence. A comfortable silence that could usually only be formed between the closest of friends. Elle smiled softly. She'd never really had a friend before. She had her sister Elizabeth, but she'd never had a friend who wasn't a family member. Elle had always assumed that it was her condition that scared people away. After all, Elle's friendship was fleeting...

"You know you haven't asked me if I'm scared," Elle remarked in a joking manner.

"Of Dragons?" The professor inquired.

Elle giggled, which was a rarity, "No... of dying."

"Well, if you are, then you have could have fooled me," The professor said his brown eye bright.

"Well, I'm not... I'm not scared of death, and maybe that's why I'm here because... I don't know," Elle muttered.

The professor turned to Elle and took one of her small hands into his own. He smiled and then whispered, as if Elle were a small child, "My dear Elaina Ashworth, death is just another path, one we must all take."

Elle smiled, and for a brief moment she was reminded of her father, with his thin spectacles and bright brown eyes. She was reminded of his comforting words and his reassuring hugs during her long nights spent in a hospital bed. Then, the memory was gone and she was back inside the church. "But what is behind the path? And what is ahead of it?" She whispered

"What is behind is behind." He stated simply.

"Well, then what is ahead? If I should be so bold to ask," She requested.

The professor patted Elle's hand with his own, and smiled a smile that knew far more than it meant, and meant far more than it said, and finally whispered, "An adventure."

Those words ignited something in Elaina's soul. Her light blue eyes brightened, and her imagination filled with longing of what the two words could bring.

"Maybe that's why I'm scared..." Elle muttered under her breath, "What if I want to have an adventure before I die? What if I want to accomplish something of partial relevance in this world before I pass into the next."

Elle let out a shaky breath and looked down at her sneaker-clad feet. She whispered under her breath, "I've spent my entire life behind hospital walls. When I was a kid I never even went outside. All I wanted to do was play tag in the field near our house. But I couldn't. I could hardly walk, let alone run. But now I'm twenty-six years old and I look out my window and I see kids still playing tag... and I want to join them so badly. I know I'm an adult but I just... I don't want to hide anymore. I'm not scared. I know my fate."

"Sometimes our fates can be changed," The professor encouraged.

Elle nodded, "I know."

"Do you ever talk to God Miss Ashworth?" The man asked while nodding towards the alter.

"Yes," Elle replied, "Though I find our conversations to be one-sided the majority of the time. But yes, I talk to God."

"Hm, I was just curious," He began, "What do you think He's saying?"

Elle opened her mouth in search of the right sentence, but none came.

"I-I well, I... Don't know," She finally managed. She huffed and placed her head in her hands before saying, "I just wish... He'd give me a sign, or a hint. I don't know just... something."

"He will," The man assured.

"Will he?" Elle responded with a sarcastic tone in her voice.

"Yes, I'm quite sure actually." He said.

"Really? And what makes you so sure?" Elle inquired, tilting her head to the side in mock curiosity.

"I just know," He stated with out hesitation. And then his eyes were shining once again, but this time it was as if he knew something that Elle didn't, something that Elle was determined to find out.

Elle furrowed her eyebrows and started to speak, "What do y-"

_Bong! Bong! Bong!_ The clock tower in town struck midnight.

"Is it really that late already? I'm sorry, but I really should be getting home," Elaina apologized, already beginning to gather her things. She held out the man's handkerchief with the intention of returning it to him, but he shook his head furiously, insisting that she keep it.

"Would you be opposed to my assistance?" The man asked as he maneuvered his way out of the pew.

"No, no, not at all," Elle replied, bracing her hands on both sides of the bench in an attempt to rise to her feet. The man held out his arm as a means of support, and Elle grabbed it immediately. The professor had already set up her walker from where it had been leaning outside of the pew. Elle, with the professor's help, found her self safely behind her walker, and making her way towards the church entrance. The professor held open the door for her and a rush of cold air immediately greeted her. Elle glanced up at the sky and a smile graced her lips. It was snowing. It was snowing on-

"Happy Christmas!" She exclaimed.

"Yes indeed Miss Ashworth, a Happy Christmas it is, speaking of which," The man mumbled while pulling out a scrap of paper, scribbling a message onto it, and then digging further into his pockets, "I have a present for you."

Elle had to stop herself from gawking. A present? They had just met? How did he manage to have one?

"What? We just met! You really didn't have to-"

"Oh hush, I wasn't expecting to give this to just anyone when I left my home this evening, but you are quite the exception Elaina Ashworth," The man confessed.

Elaina was absolutely gob smacked. Why did she deserve such a kind gesture? The man finally found what he had been rummaging around for in his coat pockets. It was a small white box, no bigger than the palm of his hand, with a silver bow. He removed the lid, slid the note he had just written into the box, and then sealed it once again.

"You'll have to thank my wife for the wrapping," He said as he handed the package to Elle.

"I can't accept-"

"You can and you will," He insisted, practically shoving the package into her hand, which was still resting on the walker.

"Okay, okay," She exclaimed, grasping the small box and gently sliding it into her coat pocket.

"Thank you," She finally added, "Really, this is too kind."

The man just smiled and they continued their walk towards the main street. Elle explained that she didn't live too far and the man had kindly offered to walk her home, if of course, she was able. Which she insisted she was. The walk consisted of mostly silence with the occasional compliment about the freshly fallen snow.

"Do you know what snow symbolizes in literature Miss Ashworth," The professor questioned.

"Doesn't symbolize death?" Elle teased.

"No, no that's ice. You know, how the first frost destroys what's left of the harvest? Well snow is different. It takes the landscape, which is riddled with withering trees and wilted plants, and paints them in a new image. It reconstructs the imperfections we see into something pure and perfect. It is purity, innocence, and a new beginning," He informed her with yet another all-knowing look in his eyes.

"Hmm," Elle mused, "That sounds... Beautiful."

"Doesn't it?" He remarked. The pair turned another corner and began to near Elle's flat. Elle sighed contentedly as she looked up at the falling snowflakes. It was just then that she realized that the sky was quite clear, despite the fact that snow was dancing around her as if someone had just shaken a snow globe. She could see the stars, bright and pure, smiling down on her, like thousands of little guardians protecting her every move. Elle had always loved the stars, they were a promise, a promise of life carrying on far beyond the world she called home. A promise of a new beginning.

Just like the snow.

"This is me," Elle said while notioning towards the red door near the end of the sidewalk.

She stumbled slightly as an ache jolted up the side of her leg. The professor immediately tried to help her but Elle promised that she was fine, and that she just needed to get inside and rest. She rummaged through her coat pockets and produced the key to the flat.

"I suppose I shall see you around campus then?" Elle asked as she rested her hand on the doorknob.

"I would hope so," The man answered before grabbing her fingers and placing a kiss on the top of hand.

"Until then," She said, glad to have made a new friend.

"Until then," The man repeated, before taking a step back, looking at her fondly, and laughing to himself.

"What is it?" Elle asked, slightly curious.

"I suppose, bravery does come in small packages after all," He mused with a far off look in his eyes, as if he were talking about something else entirely.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing my dear, goodnight, and Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas," She whispered as she watched his figure, hands in his pockets and collar turned up, journey back down the street from which he came. It was only when he was completely enveloped by the sheets of falling snow that Elle remembered the weight of a finely wrapped white box that rested in her coat pocket.

It was only then that Elle realized she hadn't gotten his name.


	2. Chapter 2: Lifelines

_**A/N: Hello! Hi! Howdy? Happy Saturday! Firstly, let me just say thank you to camomila3, Anon, and biddle29 for reviewing! And to all those who favorited and followed! Thank you! Honestly, thank you so much. I was very hesitant to share my work with anyone and was worried how it would be received, and all of you wiped those fears away! Now, I will say Chapter two and three were supposed to be one long chapter but then I started pushing 10,000 words and started to think, hm... perhaps we should make these two separate chapters. So I did. Also, really quick, I am extremely influenced by music and write to it quite frequently, so if you want to feel the feels, listen to "Silver Comforts Jim" from Treasure Planet, "Goodbye Brother" from Game of Thrones S1, and "Seeing is Believing" from The Polar Express. Anyways, I'll stop rambling! Enjoy!**_

**Chapter 2: Lifelines **

"_What do you fear my lady?"_

"_A cage."_

_\- The Two Towers_

Elle gently shut the door behind her, hoping not to wake anyone, although her attempt would prove to have been in vain.

"Where. Have. You. Been?" An angry, yet worried, Scottish woman shouted from across the flat. Elle sighed, but couldn't stop the slight smile that spread across her lips. The voice belonged to none other than Elle's live-in nurse, Miss Jane McCoy. Although the fifty-year-old woman could seem intimidating and overbearing to most, to Elle she was just like a second mother, or and overly-involved Aunt. Once Elle turned to face the living room she found said nurse standing before her with her fists planted on her hips.

"Hi, Miss McCoy-"

"Don't you 'Hi' me young lady! Do you have any idea what time it is," Jane stepped forward and pointed a finger toward Elle in an attempt to be stern, but due to her inherent motherly nature she instead placed her hands gently on Elle's face and began to inspect her for injury, "Are you hurt? Did you slip on any ice? Are you breathing alright? When did you eat last-"

"I'm alright, Miss McCoy, truly. Fit as a fiddle," Elle piped, and then promptly began to cough and wheeze.

"And what do you call that, Miss-Fit-As-A-Fiddle?" Jane asked while straightening Elle's hair.

"My impeccable comedic timing?" Elle mumbled under another cough.

Jane sighed and led Elle towards the small kitchen. Elle, removed her coat, sat herself behind the kitchen table and grabbed a plate of potatoes and roasted vegetables.

"M'fraid there wasn't any Christmas goose this year," Jane explained after placing Elle's plate on the table, "You know with the war and all, but I think I did a pretty bang-up job without any butter or cream. It wasn't easy but I made do. Well don't just look at me child, eat, eat!"

Elle proceeded to shovel carrots and potatoes into her mouth, at which Jane began to scold her for her poor manners. Elle flashed her nurse a toothy grin and continued to scarf down the Christmas leftovers.

"I am sorry about being out so late," Elle whispered while pushing the peas to the side of her plate.

Jane sighed, while continuing to rummage through the kitchen cabinets in an attempt to gather Elle's medical supplies, "Well, it is Christmas, so I suppose I can forgive you."

"Right," Elle smiled at her nurse and replied, "Happy Christmas Miss McCoy."

"Yes, yes, and a Happy New Year," Jane said while waving her hand as if she were sweeping the conversation away, "But Christmas or not, you aren't getting out of eating your peas."

Elle scrunched up her nose. She'd always despised green peas ever since she was a little girl. Texture, she had always said, it just made her want to stick out her tongue in protest.

"It builds character, Miss Ashworth," Jane sing-songed while placing her medical equipment on the kitchen table, and pulling up a chair across from Elle.

"I'm twenty-six," Elle said in disbelief.

"Could've fooled me!"

Elle grumbled under her breath, suddenly bearing a strong resemblance to a small pouty child, but she made no further protest against eating her greens.

"And I told you to call me Elle," Elaina reminded after she cleaned her plate.

"Oh I know, I just like to mess with yah," Jane chuckled after lovingly pinching Elle's cheeks.

"Ha. Ha. Now let's just get this over with," Elle said, gesturing to the box of needles and medication.

"Ah right, well, it has to be done," Jane said matter-of-factly. Jane sat down across from Elle and began to go through the list of procedures: taking her vitals, giving her two or three shots of a medication Elle wouldn't dare try to pronounce, and stretching her joints below her waist. The last one Elle disliked the most. Granted, it wasn't particularly challenging, Jane would usually just bend Elle's leg at the knee and apply a bit of pressure to make sure the circulation was flowing through-out Elle's legs. No, it wasn't challenging, it was just excruciatingly painful. After a few more moments of Elle being poked and pried at, Miss McCoy finally began to clean up the table. Elle leaned back in her seat, relieved that Jane was finally finished.

"So, am I healthy as a horse," Elle joked.

Miss McCoy chuckled and leaned down to place a kiss on Elle's forehead, "You are too good Miss Elaina. You never complain, not once. Not even when I'm poking at you with all sorts of needles… and still, despite everything, you are kind."

Elle shrugged with a soft smile and added, "I suppose you have my parents to thank for that."

"I s'pose I do," Jane sighed before looking at Elle thoughtfully, "You know, If our world was filled with half the kindness that is contained your little body we wouldn't be in this bloody war."

Elle laughed, "I wouldn't go that far."

"Oh but it's true deary, kindness is a woman's greatest weapon," Jane said mischieviously.

"Well what about our charm and unbelievably quick wit," Elle chimed, tilting her head in mock curiosity.

"Only the very lucky may obtain all three."

They both shared a smile before Jane continued to tidy up the kitchen. The nurse had her curly red hair tied up in a bun, and an old apron hung over her round form. Jane had been around for longer than Elle could remember. She was always waiting around the corner if Elle managed to injure herself. If Elle fell or tripped or even gave herself a paper cut, Jane was there. Jane would swoop in like a hawk, a very kind and considerate hawk, mind you, with extra band aids, a warm smile, and rosy freckle covered cheeks. In a world where everything for Elle was uncertain, Jane was constant, and Elle would be forever grateful for her.

"I was at the church tonight," Elle whispered as she swung her feet above the floor (her feet couldn't touch the ground while she sat in the chair). Jane shut a cabinet door and turned to face Elaina.

"I just wish you would've told me or your sister that's all," Jane replied.

"I know, and I'm sorry, I just needed… air, space, time…" Elle sighed.

"And I understand Miss. I do. But we were beside ourselves with worry, your sister and I... It's just, considering your condition we started to assume the worst," Miss McCoy began to ramble, "We didn't have any idea where you were! We didn't have any idea if you were with anyone, if you were safe! You could've been dead! What if you had had another episode? What if you fell and were left out in the cold? Or, what if there had been another bomb-" Jane fell silent.

Another bombing. Elle's bright eyes dulled at the memory of fire raining from the sky. The sound of chaos that enveloped the town in a flaming inferno. She saw flames licking at the trees. She saw crumbling houses. She saw her family.

"I miss them," Elle whispered, and Jane felt an ache in her heart, and rushed to kneel next to her patient who was now more like a daughter.

"I know dear, I do too," Jane said while grabbing Elle's hands with her own, "But we must have courage. For their sake. And remember that they aren't truly gone. The ones we love never really leave us. I remember when I lost my sister, she was like my other half she was, and I thought life was unbearable after she left. I felt as though life would never be the sam. I had lost all hope, and do you know what happened next?"

Elle shook her head, trying to ignore the tears that were threatening the corners of her eyes.

"I was offered a job to help take care of you. You were barely a day over three, and when I heard about your condition I expected to find a lost cause. A frail little child who could barely lift a finger. But oh no, that was not our Ellie-Bellie, not in the slightest. No, the first day I met you, you were finger painting… all over your parent's white sitting room wall, with a grin that reached your ears no less! Miss Elaina, I'm going to share with you a secret, a secret that took me far too many years to fully understand: Life has a funny way of throwing us into the deep, without any hope of staying afloat, and then, when we finally want to stop treading water, we are give a lifeline, a beacon of hope, and suddenly that unexplainable force becomes our new reason to stay alive."

Elle smiled wiping away the tears that had fallen onto her cheeks.

"You've never told me that story before," Elle replied.

"That's because you didn't need to hear it until now," Jane answered with certainty.

Elle wrapped her arms around Jane and thanked her as much as she possibly could.

"Is Elizabeth still awake?" Elle asked, breaking the embrace.

"No, I'm afraid she went to her room a couple hours ago, poor thing," Jane sighed.

"Oh, well, I think I'm going to surprise her before I go to bed," Elle said, standing from her chair and reaching for her walker.

"With what, if you don't mind me askin'," Jane chuckled.

"Just a gift I picked up for her, I saw it when I was leaving the library, it's not much but-"

"Alright, alright, go on," the nurse teased while waving Elle toward her room, "Now, I don't want you up much later Missy, Chris Kringle might pass us right up if you're not careful."

"Oh no, we can't have that now can we," Elle mocked as she stood, gathered her coat, and made her way to the hall that led to her and Elizabeth's room, "Goodnight Jane, Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas, Miss Elaina."

Elle turned on her heel and headed down the hall that led to the room she shared with her little sister. Once she reached the door she carefully turned the knob, willing herself not to make too much noise upon entering the room.

The Ashworth sisters didn't have a huge room, but they made it their mission to make the room as uniquely theirs as they possibly could. On one side of the room, Elizabeth's side, the wall was covered in sketches and paintings. On the other side, Elle's, the walls were relatively neat, save for the picture frames and the bookcase overflowing with history books. The picture frames held photographs that were taken by her brother, Will. Some of them were of her family, and others were taken while he was in France fighting in the war. Elle had always admired her siblings love of art and their ability to capture life. Her sister was a painter and her brother was a photographer… and Elle was… Elle. The girl who found solace in words and refuge in fairy tales. The girl who believed in second chances and longed for happy endings. The girl who hoped and the girl who dreamed, nothing more, nothing less. Near Elizabeth's side of the room there was a mound of dirty clothes; floral tops, high-waisted skirts, high heels, and stockings. Beth also had an array of sports equipment half-hazardly lying about. There was a football hiding under a pair of trousers and a tennis racquet peeking out of their shared closet. On Elle's side, the floor was clean, excluding a few pairs of socks that were discarded near the bed. There was a dresser, situated in the corner under a window that overlooked the garden, which held most of Elle's clothes. In the center of the room, pushed against the back wall, a queen bed rested. The bed was covered with light pink sheets, a white quilt, and crochet blanket, and beneath all of the covers Elle could make out the form of her sleeping sister. Elizabeth's golden blonde hair was a tangled mess as is streamed across the pillows, but, from what Elle could see, her face was relaxed, soft, free of burden. Elle always liked to take a few moments while her baby sister was sleeping and take in the glow of innocence and youth that still radiated from her face. Elizabeth was eight years younger than Elle, a freshman at Oxford, but the age gap never got in the way of their companionship. It was strange for Elle at first. Before her sister was born she was used to being thought of as weak or frail. Her Aunt Marguerite used to say that Elaina, with her white hair, blue eyes, and petite stature, reminded her of a porcelain tea cup. While Elle supposed it was kind of her Aunt to infer that Elle was delicate like porcelain, she took much offense when she first heard the statement. She didn't want to be breakable, she didn't want to be fragile, she didn't want to be a piece of china that was placed on a shelf and only looked at from time to time. Then her mother had her little sister, and it was as if God had finally answered eight-year-old Elle's prayers for a friend. The two became inseparable, and Elizabeth adored her older sister. Elizabeth never once thought Elle was fragile, actually she laughed at the thought of her sister being weak. Elizabeth eventually grew up, but she was never blinded by how the world said she should view her sister. Instead, she looked at Elaina with her own eyes and saw a woman braver than the commander of a thousand armies. Elle smiled at Elizabeth's sleeping form, happy to see her sister actually resting for the first time since the blitz. She wondered if she shouldn't wake Beth and let her rest, but she couldn't wait to give her sister her present, so instead she decided to change to give her sister a few extra minutes of rest.

Elle made her way to the dresser and prepared hang up her coat before she recalled a small white wrapped box that was contained in one of the pockets. She removed the package that had been gifted to her only a few minutes prior and examined it with a furrowed brow. Elle didn't know what to do, which was a strange emotion for her. Should she open it? Or should she just return it to the Professor when she saw him on campus? Was there anything in the box? Was it just a joke instigated for the professors enjoyment? Elle held the box to her ear and gave it a slight shake. The box rattled in response. Well, clearly it wasn't empty. She pressed her lips together in contemplation, and then decided to set the box on top of the dresser. She would open it in the morning. She could wait.

Elle then proceeded to change out of the dress and stockings she had worn that night and into a warm pair of flannel pajamas. She pulled several hairpins out of the french twist her hair had been styled into, and let her white hair fall down her back in soft curls. After Elle had changed she swiftly opened the drawer that held her sweaters. She removed a few cardigans to reveal two hidden Christmas presents, delicately wrapped in candy cane wrapping paper and emerald green bows. She turned away from the dresser and slid into the bed, presents still in hand.

"Beth," She whispered while giving her sisters shoulder a slight shake, "Bethy-Bug, wake up."

Elizabeth rolled over and mumbled in a voice thick with sleep, "Five more minutes Mum."

"Bethy it's me, Elle, your sister," Elle breathed, placing her hand on her sister's shoulder and attempting to roll her over. Elizabeth turned her head tiredly to face Elle, and she fluttered her eyes open.

"Hmmm?" She hummed, still drowning a blanket of sleep.

Slowly, Elizabeth began to open her brown eyes and stretch her long limbs. There was a sudden spark of realization behind Beth's eyes and she turned over completely to face Elle with a gleaming white smile.

"Ellie!" She exclaimed, "You're home!"

"Yes, I am, and completely fine. There was no need to worry your little head," Elle replied, tapping Beth on her button nose.

"Well, I'm glad you're home," Beth admitted.

"So am I. And, guess what day it is… Officially," Elle implored.

"What are you talking-" Beth began to question, but then her face lit up, "Christmas! It's Christmas! Happy Christmas Ellie!"

Elizabeth threw her arms around her older sister and a placed kiss on both of Elle's cheeks.

"Oh, and what might these be," Elizabeth questioned after glancing towards the two presents.

"These? Oh, well apparently one of Santa's elves was very thoughtful and left you _two_ presents."

"Really? How kind," Beth jested.

"Well don't just sit there, go crazy, tear that paper like you mean it!" Elle ordered with a wide grin.

Elizabeth smiled at her older sister, "Thank you Elle. Really, you didn't have to do this-"

"Oh hush up and open the bloody present."

At that Elizabeth grabbed the smallest box and began to tear open the package. Once the paper was gone, a small velvet box remained in Beth's palm. She lifted the lid, and her jaw dropped at the sight of what rested inside. There, in the tiny box, was a beautiful golden pendant. Elizabeth lifted the necklace from its box, in an attempt to better examine it. The pendant itself was sculpted in the shape of the sun, and it hung from a glimmering golden chain.

"I saw it a couple weeks ago when I was leaving the library, and I just thought, well, I hope you like it," Elle said sincerely.

"I love it," Elizabeth replied, clasping it around her neck, "It's just like your's."

Elle glanced down to the pendant that hardly left the space below her throat; however, Elle's pendant hung about a silver chain. The pendant itself appeared to be almost platinum, in the shape of an oval, and finely painted with the image of a crescent moon and a cluster of glittering stars.

"I suppose your's is a bit different," Beth muttered, "But similar all the same."

"Just like us," Elle assured.

And that statement rang true. Anyone who looked at the two sisters could spot their polarity. Elle was petite, not even reaching five foot, and Beth was gracefully tall, almost six foot. Elle's eyes were blue, Beth's were brown. Elle's hair was white as the moon, and Beth's hair was golden as the sun. That's what they were, the moon and the sun. Two forces that were different in appearance, but bound together by a strange similarity, a strange similarity called gravity that refused for them to be apart. A similarity that couldn't be denied by any circumstance.

"I got you something too!" Beth remembered. The blonde tumbled out of bed and shot straight for the closet. She reached for the top shelf, a brilliant hiding spot considering her sister's stature, and pulled down a golden box with a yellow ribbon. Beth quickly jumped back onto the bed, sitting on her knees, and placing the present in front of Elle.

"You didn't-"

"Don't you dare start that with me. I did and you are very welcome, now let the unwrapping begin!" Beth declared, nudging the box closer to Elle.

Elle laughed and gently began to untie the ribbon and open the lid. Inside was a pink, leather bound book and a silver pen.

"It was Mum's. Her diary I mean. I bought the pen. I found the diary a month ago after-"

"Thank you," Elle interrupted Beth, "It's perfect."

"I didn't have much extra money, but the pen is quite good, and I know how much you love to write, and-"

"Oh!" Elle exclaimed before shoving the second present into Elizabeth's arms, "Don't forget this one, and I will just say that I expect you to share."

"Okay! Okay!" Beth giggled while tearing open yet another box, but this one wasn't holding beautiful jewelry, this one contained delicious treats. The box was filled some of the two girls favorite sweets. There were bags of peppermint clusters, dark chocolate truffles, and caramel brittle. But the best sweet was the small bag of shortbread cookies from a bakery outside of Coventry, owned by an elderly French woman, that their family constantly frequented when they were kids.

"How did you get these! You are a saint Elle!" Elizabeth squealed, already opening the bag, "Are these really from _Madeline's_? I haven't been there since I was little! Do you remember how we would go there every Sunday after church and order a pie to take home for after dinner? Or how Mum would get our birthday cakes made especially from there every year? Oh, and remember when you'd have to go to the hospital and Will would always bring you a bag of sugar cookies because you refused to eat the cold hospital food! And once you both were older, you would go there ever Friday after school and talk for hours-"

Elle's face fell at the sudden rush of memories. She was abruptly bombarded with all the memories she'd suppressed in an attempt to sooth the pain. She suddenly remembered how much she loved her big brother, how much she missed her knight in shining armor.

"He's in a better place, and I'm sure he misses you too," Beth assured, grabbing Elle's hand.

"Yes, yes of course," Elle nodded, refusing to let herself sucumb to grief, and grabbed the already open bag of short bread, "Now, if you aren't going to eat these then I will."

"You read my mind."

And thus the two young women spent the entire night chatting and scarfing down as many sweets as they possibly could. Elizabeth went on and on about a boy who'd asked her to go to a New Years Eve party with him, and according to Elizabeth he was, "Absolutely darling, and such a gentleman." Elle always loved to hear about her sister's endeavors, and though she'd never admit it, she found herself, at times, living vicariously through Beth. Beth was always playing sports, meeting with friends, living life. And that made Elle happier than any material present.

"Alright your turn," Beth implied mischievously.

"Turn for what?" Elle laughed.

"Oh come off it Ellie! You are almost 27! There has to be a special someone in your life," The younger sister teased.

"That would be you Bethy-Bug," Elle answered with a smirk.

"While I am flattered m'lady, but, _I _do _not count,"_ Beth replied, "But seriously Elle, I just don't understand how you aren't… Involved? That's not the right word, but you know what I'm trying to say, don't you?"

"I do… and well… I'm not entirely sure, maybe it's because I'm me and I'm carrying alot of… baggage… You know," Elle reasoned.

"Then they all must be mad, because you are quite the catch," Elizabeth determined.

"Why thank you sister dearest," Elle sing-songed before grabbing another cookie.

And although Elle would never admit it in a million years, she did long for love. A love that wasn't familial. A love that was like in the all of her story books. A love that was riddled with meaning and devotion and acceptance. She didn't want to be saved like a princess in a tower. She wanted to be her own knight in shining armor, and find a man who stood beside her, not in front of her.

"You'll find him, I know it." Beth said with sincerity.

"Well he better hurry up, because I don't exactly have much time left-"

"Don't," Beth stopped her sister, "You don't get to say that."

"Bethy," Elle tried to soothe her baby sister.

"Don't you remember when you were 17, and you were going in for a surgery they'd never even tried before? They gave you two weeks. Two weeks, and you're still here. You've proved them wrong before, you can do it again," Beth reasoned.

"I think this time is different Bethy-Bug," Elle whispered.

"You have to try, can you promise me you'll try," Beth replied in a small voice.

"Always."

Suddenly the two sisters were overwhelmed with exhaustion as night faded into early morning. They both cleaned up the mess they'd made with all the sweets, and burrowed themselves under the blankets. Elle turned towards her sister and let her eyes slowly begin to shut.

"I love you Ellie-Bellie," Elizabeth's voice whispered in the darkness.

"And I love you Bethy-Bug," Elle replied before letting sleep consume her.

* * *

Elle awoke to the sound of rustling and humming. Her blue eyes fluttered open to find Beth flittering about the room in an emerald green dress and a pair of heels.

"Oh good you're awake," Beth chimed, "Miss Jane says we've got an hour until we should head to the church."

"What time is it," Elle groaned, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"Half-past eleven," Beth answered. She was busy trying to put on her earrings and find a bracelet that matched her new necklace. "You better get out of bed soon, or Miss Jane will have a cow," Beth remarked, heading towards the bathroom to grab a tube of red lipstick.

"Alright, alright," Elle muttered before swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Elle stretched her arms over her head and rubbed the back of her neck.

"Didn't you say you were getting up," Beth asked upon returning from the bathroom with a pair of ruby red lips.

"I'm already up," Elle said incredulously.

"I know when you're messing with me Elaina," Beth scolded.

"Beth, what the bloody Hell are you-" Elle stopped mid-sentence. She looked down at her legs, and saw that they were still lying pin-straight across the bed. Hadn't she moved them? She must've been more tired than she originally expected. She made an attempt to once again to fling her legs over the side of the bed. Nothing. Elle's breathing increased and she felt the tears welling up in her eyes. She tossed the covers off of her body to find her legs utterly motionless.

"Beth, I'm moving my toes aren't I? Please tell me I'm moving my toes," Elle pleaded unable to shake the pit of fear that had burrowed into the bottom of her stomach. She furrowed her brow and internally screamed at her legs to move. They didn't.

"No, Elle you aren't," Beth responded, confused by her sister's behavior, "Why-" A white sheet of realization fell over Beth's face. She cried out for Miss Jane, and instantly Elle felt as if everything was moving in slow motion. It was as if the inevitable conclusion she'd been avoiding for twenty six years had finally been initiated. It was as if Elle was standing on the precipice of her final chapter. Jane rushed into the room, checked her vitals, and called for an ambulance. In a matter of minutes the paramedics flooded into the flat, and strapped Elle too a gurney. Beth stood helplessly in the corner pleading with her sister to be alright. The flat had been enveloped into a field of chaos, paramedics calling out orders, Beth sobbing, and Elle feeling as if the floor had fallen out from underneath her. Then she was outside, flakes of snow falling around her upturned face as she was being pushed into the ambulance. Elle was rushed to the hospital with her sister and nurse in tow, leaving the flat that had just been reminiscent of a battlefield, still and quiet, as if no incident had occurred at all.

The kitchen sat spotless next to the living room that seemed relatively ordinary. The books on Elaina's shelf, though well read, were unmoved, and the paintings on Beth's wall, though unique, were unaffected. And the small, unassuming white box, tied with a silver ribbon, remained on Elle's dresser: untouched, unopened, and unremembered.

For now.

_**A/N: Alright, there you have it. So I know we're still in the exposition stage, but I promise that will change very soon. So...Where would you like to see the story go? What cliches do you want me to avoid? What would you like to see once we finally make it to Middle Earth? **_

_**Rate? Review? Both? **_

_**Have a lovely week and t**__**hanks for reading :) **_


	3. Chapter 3: What If

**A/N: Hello! Sorry for the long hiatus, but I'm back! Thank you all favoriting/following/reviewing! It means the world to me! As for those who were wondering about Elle's illness, this story is set in the 40's so her disease hasn't actually been discovered yet, but for all intensive purposes, she basically has an auto-immune disease. More will be revealed in due time! Anyways, Happy Reading! **

Chapter 3: What If

_"Winds in the East, mist coming in, like something is brewing, about to begin."_

_-Mary Poppins_

Elle thought she was floating, like she was resting on top of a smooth, glittering lake. Everything around her was dark, but it wasn't frightening. It was… peaceful. Was this death? If it was, it wasn't so bad. Elle felt the caress of a cool breeze across her face. She heard the sound of mockingbirds flittering through the trees, and nightingales singing a sweet song. Where was she? She tried blinking her eyes in an attempt to clear her vision. Nothing.

There was something else in the air. A voice. It was singing. The song was beautiful, tragic, and melodic. The voice was strange, seeming to be both masculine and feminine, but familiar all the same. The voice continued to sing and Elle felt the urge to call out to it. She felt as if she knew the song, and she wanted to sing along. But as soon as the voice came it faded, almost into a whisper. Elle tried to understand what the voice was saying. The words were soft, comforting. The words were calling out to Elle, begging her to listen.

And she did. She listened, while floating above a strange watery depth, Elle listened with all her might. "I'm listening!" She cried out. Then, the song birds halted their singing, and the breeze ceased its billowing, and two crystal clear words collided with Elle's ears:

_Be Brave._

A light appeared above Elle, glowing with brilliant hues of blue and white. The light grew, and grew, until Elle was completely surrounded by a blinding white sky. She took a deep breath, and the water that was once keeping her afloat disappeared, leaving Elle falling through space. She was tumbling down a never ending casam, grasping for something to hold onto. She inhaled a deep breath, and shut her eyes, preparing to collide with the bottom of a pit. But instead of a hard, painful impact, Elle felt blankets all around her, and a mattress beneath her. She groaned and thought to herself, "What the bloody hell is going on."

"Elle? Elle? Can you hear me?" The voice of her sister called out.

Elle blinked her eyes open and instead of finding darkness, or strange blinding lights, she found the confines of a small hospital room, and the smiling faces of Elizabeth and Jane. Her head was pounding, and her throat felt like someone had rubbed it dry with sandpaper.

"Please, give her some room," A man in a white coat instructed the two women, who, upon seeing Elle awaken, were already by her bedside. The two women backed up and the man came to stand next to Elle.

"How are we feeling Miss Ashworth, you had us all quite worried," The man said.

"I feel like I got hit by a train… twice," Elle replied while rubbing her eyes with her hands.

"That's to be expected, after-" The doctor stopped and looked at Elizabeth and Miss McCoy, "Miss Ashworth we have a lot to discuss."

Elle furrowed her eyebrows, her confusion level finally peaking. Then she looked down at her legs and the memories came rushing back like a freshly opened spring. The church, the professor, her sister, their gift exchange, the sweets. The complete and utter numbness. She remembered, and she began to shake her head in disbelief.

"Come on, move," She commanded her legs in the confines of her thoughts, "Please."

They didn't. Elle looked back to the doctor, and he began to explain what she already understood. A few hours later, after Miss McCoy signed the discharge papers, a nurse came in to help Elle get ready to go home. The nurse was accompanied by Elle's worst nightmare. A wooden chair on wheels.

Elle took a deep breath.

_Be Brave._

* * *

April 23rd, 1941

Oxford, UK

The park near the Oxford campus was relatively empty, which wasn't surprising considering many of the recent graduates were probably in town celebrating. Elle sat, in her wheelchair, near a park bench, tearing off pieces of the bread from her sandwich and feeding them to the birds that had gathered at her feet. She had spent a total of four months confined to the wooden contraption. After Elle got out of the hospital, the days seemed to move slowly. Her mornings were consumed by classes and her evenings were either spent with her sister or in the confines of a hospital testing room. Ever since Elle was a child they never completely understood her condition. It was unidentifiable, incurable, and yet the hospital staff worked diligently in hope of finding a way to save the young woman's life. Sometime between the passing days, Elle celebrated her 27th birthday, and Elizabeth her 19th. It was a bittersweet affair, full of hope and sorrow, in knowing that Elle wouldn't ever have another birthday, forever be cloaked in a veil of youth.

She was humming a tune her mother used to sing to her when she was little, and didn't hear the footsteps approaching from behind.

"Why aren't you out with the others?" The question sounded from behind Elle.

She jumped, making the birds at her feet scatter, and inclined her head towards the voice. A few feet behind her stood a man, around her age, maybe a bit older, with golden hair and green eyes. He wore a pair of khaki pants, a white button up shirt, and a dark brown tie, which had been loosened. He had an intelligent air about him, and a dignified yet approachable quality in his stance. Elaina Ashworth would've had to have been a complete idiot to deny that the man in front of her was undeniably handsome.

"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I don't quite understand your question," Elle scoffed.

Apparently Elaina Ashworth was a complete idiot.

"I meant no offense," The man said holding his hands up. He took a few steps towards her and gestured to the bench, "May I?"

Elle sighed, "Sure, go ahead."

"I was only asking why you weren't in town with the other students. I saw you at the graduation today, you just got you masters, didn't you?" The man asked.

"I did, were you there?" Elle countered in return.

"I was actually sitting right behind you," The man said sheepishly while scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment.

Elle's jaw went slack. Did she really not remember him? Was she really in that much of a haze?

"Actually I was also in your European History class this year," The man mumbled.

"I'm so sorry-"

"Oh and that Shakespearian seminar a couple years ago, but who's counting," He added with a slight smirk.

"Wait! Yes! I remember! Ethan right? Ethan Foster?" Elle exclaimed, praying to God that she was right.

"Ian, Ian Forrester, but I'll give you points for trying," He chuckled, noting the red tent of her cheeks.

"Ian. Right. Listen, I do remember you, it's just been a crazy couple of... years," She reasoned.

"I can understand, but I do believe you are avoiding my question Elle," The man teased.

"You remembered my name?" Elle asked, slightly taken aback.

"How could I forget?" He said with a charming smile.

Elle laughed and felt her cheeks heat up, "I-I... well…" Elle stuttered attempting to remember his original question, and upon doing so she answered, "I don't really have any friends, so I didn't really have a reason to go, and plus birds are far more amiable than drunken graduates."

Ian chuckled and then added, "I'm sure you're right, but I can't imagine a girl like you not having any friends."

"Well, a girl like me also comes attached to things like this," Elle said, gesturing to the wooden wheelchair.

"The chair is beside the point Elle," Ian said, smiling warmly, "The point is that you should be celebrating. God knows you deserve it."

Elle turned her gaze back to her hands in her lap, where a half eaten sandwich still resided. She tore it in half and handed it to Ian.

"Here," She said, ignoring his confused expression, "Help me feed the birds."

Ian laughed inwardly and began tearing off pieces of the bread. A silence encircled the man and woman as they sat near one another, tossing crumbs onto the dirt covered ground.

"You know I could ask you the same question," Elle stated, not removing her gaze from the pigeon that had landed in front of her.

"Sorry?" Ian asked.

"Why aren't you in town? Celebrating?"

"Oh, well that's easy," Ian explained, a white smile gracing his lips, "I was in the mood for a stimulating conversation… and I'm in no need of celebration considering I won't graduate until next spring."

"Really?"

"Yes, unfortunately the call of war was far more impertinent than the expanding of my vast intellectual horizons," Ian sighed dramatically, "But, never fear, I am back, and here to finish my studies."

"What field?" Elle asked, suddenly curious about this intelligent soldier.

"Classics," He responded, "Though I do dabble in physics."

"You dabble?" Elle laughed, "I think it's nearly impossible to just dabble in physics. But that's my opinion, and I think physics is just plain impossible, so, I wouldn't take my word for it."

They both shared a laugh and then fell into a still silence. A silence so still that one couldn't help but admire the beauty of the afternoon. There was not a single cloud in the sky, and the rays of the sun were free to grace everything with its light. Ian looked at Elaina, who was too preoccupied by the beauty of the nature around her to notice his stare. He would never say it outloud, unless of course she asked him, but he had been absolutely enamored with her since he first saw her on the Oxford campus. The year was 1932, he was a junior and she was a freshman. She sat near the front of the classroom, her blue eyes focused on the professor, and her pen viciously scribbled down notes. She was always early and always the last to leave. He saw her stumble in the door, for this was before she had been in her wheelchair, her long white braided hair in her face and her lips graced with an excited smile. He'd sat right behind her for so many years and never said a word. Then they both finished their undergraduate programs and Ian enlisted in the army. He left for the war and accepted that he missed his chance. But low and behold, he had been deployed back to england and who was seated right in front of him in his European History class? None other than Elaina Ashworth.

And thus, Ian spent his entire first year back from war trying to find an opportune moment to simply talk to her. Now, if he were explaining this to you he'd want you to know that he never once pined after her because of her beauty, although she was beautiful. Ian began to grow fond of Elle not because of her looks, but because of her perseverance and her courage. Not only was she a woman striving to gain position in a man's world, she was a woman who should've been, given her circumstance, locked away in an attempt to prolong her already shortened life. But there she was, every morning, smiling, when she had every reason not to. Ian began to feel like he would never muster up enough courage to even say a word to her, but today he decided to take a walk, and there she was, sitting under a grove of trees near a bench. It was as if some other worldly force brought them together. It was as if something far greater was looming on the horizon.

Elle suddenly noticed Ian's green eyed stare and cleared her throat. He jumped slightly and tried to ignore the blush that was inching up his neck. Elle glanced at him again, wondering if he was going to say anything else or just sit there and stare at her.

"Oh, Sod it," Ian muttered before rising to his feet, "If I can fight the bloody nazi's, I can do this."

"What are you talking about," Elle chuckled at the man's antics.

"Would you be interested in accompanying me to London tomorrow?" He asked, feeling a tad nervous.

"Tomorrow?" Elle exclaimed her eyebrows arching at the sudden request.

Ian ran a hand through his hair, and said, "Your ears do not deceive you."

"Well, then pray tell what for," Elle asked yet another question, attempting to ignore the dozens of angry butterflies in her stomach.

"It's my little sister's 25th birthday. My mother has been insisting that I bring a date, and luckily for you," He gestured with one hand to her sitting form, "You happened to be in the right place at the right time."

Elle sat, motionless, with her mouth wide open.

"Or, judging by the look on your face, the, uh, wrong place," Ian added, looking towards the sky, trying to avoided his sudden sense of embarrassment.

"What?" Elle asked, snapping out of her state of shock, and processing his statement, "No. No! I'm sorry. I just, would this be considered… a date?"

"Yes, but due to your current state of terror, I can already tell that your answer is no, so in that case I'll-"

Ian began to turn to leave, when Elle's hand shot out to grab his hand and she exclaimed, "No! I mean yes! Just wait!"

Ian looked at their two clasped hands and whispered, "I'm waiting."

Elle quickly dropped his hand, scolding herself for being so brash. She then mumbled under her breath, "I've… never been on a date."

"Are you-" Ian began but noted the uncomfortable expression on Elle's face, "You're not kidding are you."

"Afraid not."

"Well, then I better make this official," Ian said before dramatically bending down to one knee and grabbing Elle's two delicate hand, making her actually laugh out loud. Ian smiled, he'd have to try to get her to do that more often.

"Miss Elaina… what's your middle name?"

"Marie."

"Miss Elaina Marie Ashworth would you make me the luckiest man in all of England and accompany me to London tomorrow evening."

"...Well... what are the benefits?" She asked teasingly, wondering just how far he would take his proposal.

"Ah, you mean business, I see, well, there'll be food, and wine, and merriment. Oh, and dancing. Lots of dancing," He recalled, making another attempt at getting her to laugh.

"Dancing! Well, you're going to have to count me out-"

"Oh, not you don't! Just because you're bound to this chair doesn't mean you can't have a little fun. How about I push you around the dancefloor? I'll even carry you if I have to."

"Fine! Dancing sounds lovely," She said quickly, a soft smile gracing her lips.

"Brilliant! As long as you don't mind my two left feet… Although, I suppose it's only one left foot now."

"What do you-" Elle started to question before he let go of her hands and lifted his right pant leg, exposing the bottom of a wooden prosthetic leg.

"Landmines… Nasty little buggers…" He whispered.

Elle's face softened and she smiled. He's just like you. Suddenly there was a level of understanding that neither of them could entirely comprehend, but it was there. Elle looked into a pair of green eyes and didn't feel pity, or judgement, she felt understanding.

"So what do you say M'lady," Ian asked with finality.

"Call me m'lady one more time and my answer will be no," Elle sarcastically replied.

"Is that a yes?"

"Perhaps."

A large smile graced Ian's face and he placed and excited kiss on Elle's hands, before adding "I shall see you tomorrow at six."

With that Ian turned to leave, feeling as though he could've taken down the entire Nazi army by himself. Elle bewilderedly watched him walk, practically skip, away. She had a date. An actual date with an actual human being. Elizabeth was going to die.

"Don't be late!" She shouted to Ian's retreating form. Once he was far away she let the joy she'd been repressing come forth in a bright smile. She ran a hand through her hair, which was tied back in a long braid, and squealed. She actually squealed. She would never admit it but she did. This was one of the craziest things Elle had ever done, granted, she hadn't done much, but this was something. Though she'd always dreamt of daring adventures she'd never considered herself worthy of such endeavors. She'd always considered herself the quiet girl, who would often prefer to sit at home with a book rather than a friend. But in that moment Elle realized something so simple that she wanted to laugh at her own naivety. Adventures are never planned. That's what makes them worthy of their tales. They are almost always made on a whim, without any relative thought. And as Elle sat there, lost in thought, she couldn't help but feel as though this was just the beginning. The beginning of something new. The beginning of something great. The beginning of something completely and utterly… unexpected.

* * *

April 25th, 1941

Elle had spent the majority of her day trying to maintain a certain level of obliviousness towards the fact that she had a date. Once she told her little sister, Elizabeth proceeded to fall victim to a squealing fit. Although Elle insisted that it wasn't really of any importance, Elizabeth had continued to pester her older sister all day with questions. What's his name? Where's he from? Is he handsome? I bet he's handsome. Elle loved her sister and she knew she meant well, but times like these made Elle want to yank her hair out. And that's how Elle managed to find herself, huddled under a pile of blankets, on her bed, with a copy of "The Wonderful Wizard of Oz".

There was a loud knocking on her door and the sound of someone shouting, "Elaina, please, just let me in! I only want to help, if you'd just try the dr-"

"Bethy I'm sorry but I'd much rather wear a pair of trousers and sneakers if you wouldn't mind," Elle managed as politely as possible.

"But Ellie this is a proper date! Don't you want to look nice?" Her sister asked from behind the wall.

Elle sighed. She did want to look nice. Honestly, she really liked Ian. He was kind and intelligent and understanding. Maybe that's why she wanted to pretend she wasn't going to London with him in a few hours. Maybe she felt like he was too good to be true. But he was real. Prosthetic leg and all. Elle shut the book and placed it on the dresser near the bed, and as she did, her blue eyes caught sight of a gleaming white box with a small silver bow. Her eyes widened slightly. It was her gift from the Professor from all those months ago. How had she forgotten about it? She stretched her hand out to reach the box and brought it in front of her. She removed the bow and slid the box open. There was a small piece of parchment inside, which Elle gently removed, and began to read.

_My Dearest Elaina Ashworth,_

_It was an honor meeting you. I wish you the best of luck, and may the next few months hold an adventure worthy of a thousand lifetimes._

_\- A Friend_

_155 Ebury St, London, England_

Elle moved the paper aside and examined the contents of the box. There, inside, was a small silver key. It hung on a thin chain and gleamed in the dim light of Elaina's room.

"Elle would you-"

"Just a second Bethy!" Elle called absent mindedly as she examined the key. There was a small engraving on the surface. It looked like an "F", except the two parallel lines were diagonal instead. Why would he give her a key? Perhaps it was meant to be a piece of jewelry, but then why would he have given her an address?

"What are you?" She whispered, running the pad of her thumb across the smooth metal. Elle didn't know how to explain it, but as she held this small, seemingly normal key, she felt as though she could hear someone faintly shouting out to her.

"Ellie, we've got less than an hour until Prince Charming arrives and you are currently still at pumpkin status. So please let me in!" Beth shouted with a sense of assertiveness.

Elle quickly placed the necklace and the piece of parchment back in the box and responded, "It's been unlocked the whole time, Bethy!"

The door knob slowly turned and Elizabeth entered, with a pile of dresses tossed over her arm, looking slightly flustered. She rolled her eyes and scoffed, "I just wanted to give you some privacy."

"Sure you did. Listen Bethy, I appreciate it, but-"

Elizabeth already began to shake her head in protest, "No, no, sorry, I'm not hearing it. You are going to wear a dress whether you like it or not. Now, pink or blue?"

Elaina sighed, looked at the pile of blue and pink fabric that Elizabeth had tossed onto their bed, and gave in. "Okay, fine. Blue. But I get to wear my sneakers."

"Deal."

After 20 minutes of diligent work, Elle found herself seated in her wheelchair with Elizabeth in front of her holding a handheld mirror. Slowly, a smile etched its way across Elle's face. Her white hair was tied up neatly in a french twist, blue eyes were fenced by dark lashes, and lips were painted red with lipstick. The dress she wore was royal blue and simple. It had quarter length sleeves, a boat neckline, and reached just past her knee. Her feet were clad with a pair of white keds, much to her sister's distaste, and an old pair of socks.

A woman's beauty had never been something Elle truly valued. Yes, she appreciated it, but in the grand scheme of things what was a pretty smile compared to good health or sharp wit? But in this moment, when Elle gazed at her reflection, she thought that if she did value beauty, she would've considered herself beautiful.

"And the final touch," Elizabeth whispered as she clasped Elle's silver pendant around her neck, "There. Beautiful."

Elle handed the mirror to her sister and wheeled herself over to the closet to grab her backpack, which was covered in tiny doodles born from a black ink pen.

"Elle! No, don't you dare bring that old th-"

"Sorry Bethy, but this is coming with me." Elle said as she rummaged through the bag's contents. She brought that bag everywhere. It had been her father's when he served during WWI and the tan canvas was covered in patches from different countries, messages in different languages, and even little pictures Elle had drawn when she was little. A flower here, a dragon there. But most importantly, if Elle closed her eyes and laid her head on the bag, she could still smell the cologne her Dad used to wear. She could hear his voice, see his face, pretend he was still with her.

Elizabeth sighed, in mutual understanding, "I suppose I can let it slide this time."

Elaina gave a grateful smile and continued to examine the contents of her bag. Epinephrine, check. Syringes, check. Wallet, check. Those were the necessities that she'd always carried, but she'd recently started to carry her mother's diary and a polaroid picture of their home in Coventry, or at least what was their home. As for the diary, she hadn't even read it. All she knew was that the date on the first page was 1913, one year before she was born. She supposed it was just like the backpack in a way. It made her feel as if her parents were still near by.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The sound resonated from the front door.

Elizabeth squealed, "That's him! He's actually here Ellie! He's real. My God Ellie he's real. You know for a few seconds I thought maybe you'd made him up, but look at that, right on time."

Elle glanced at the clock that hung above her bookshelf, which read 6:00, and chuckled. From outside the bedroom door the sisters could hear Miss Jane shouting with delight and inviting Ian inside. Elle had no doubt that her nurse was already kissing Ian on both cheeks and ordering him around the small flat.

"That's my que," Elle muttered, suddenly feeling a weightless sensation in her stomach.

Elizabeth hurried over to her sister and fixed a few stray blonde hairs before saying, "Just be yourself Ellie-Bellie, and he's bound to love you as much as I do."

Elle nodded and whispered in response, "I'm just… This is entirely foreign to me, and what if I'm wrong about him and what if-"

"Elaina, listen to me, 'What If's,' are for people who are too afraid to live the life that has been given to them," Her sister quickly amended.

Elle laughed, "Who knew my sister was such the philosopher."

Elizabeth tossed her blonde locks dramatically, "Oxford undergrad at your service."

Both of the Ashworth girls giggled, their brown and blue eyes squinting with joy.

"Ready?" Elizabeth asked, with a cheeky grin.

"Yes… No...Wait!" She almost shouted upon remembering the white box from the professor, "Do me favor and hand me that white box. You know, the one on the dresser, with the- Yes, that one!"

Elizabeth handed her sister the package with a questioning look.

"I, uh, got him a gift a… pocket watch."

"A pocket watch?"

"Yeah… Because he needs to know the time during the day… and it's dashing?"

Elle wanting to personally slap herself in the face. What was that bloody about? It was just a key. It probably didn't even have a matching door… Although it did come with a note to an address...

"Bugger," Elle thought to herself, annoyed that this little key was diverting her attention from the situation at hand.

"Oh, brilliant..." Her sister said, skepticism laced into her voice, "Well... now are you all sorted?"

Elle slid the package, which contained the note and the key, into her pack. She sighed, "Here goes nothing."

The door creaked open and Elizabeth pushed her sister out into the kitchen. Compliments and smiles engulfed the room like wildfire once Ian and Elaina saw each other. He made sure to kiss her hand and she made sure to give him the best curtsey she could manage (being in a wheelchair and all). Miss Jane ordered them be out no later than midnight and Elizabeth made it her mission to maneuver the couple out the door as quickly as possible. The two settled themselves into Ian's car, a car which was so nice that Elle had to remind herself not to gape at it, and sped off towards London. Elle was beyond ecstatic, but every time she looked at Ian's sparkling green eyes, she felt a pang of guilt in her chest. His thoughts were directly focused on the evening ahead of them, but Elle's thoughts were drifting away, drifting towards the confines of her canvas backpack, and more importantly the confines of a small white box.

* * *

The drive to London was much farther than Elle had originally anticipated. The sun had vanished behind the tall buildings and the moon had taken its place in the sky. Although the ride had been long, it had been nothing near unpleasant. It was actually a wonderful excuse for the two to get to know one another. Ian had three sisters, Margot, the oldest, Oliva, a year younger than himself, and Rachel, the youngest. It was actually Rachel's 25th birthday party they were attending. According to Ian, Rachel and her husband loved a good party, even despite the fact she was 8 months pregnant. Elle told him about her parents and how they eloped and ran away together a year before they had her older brother William. She told him about the archeology digs her father went on in Africa and about the art gallery her brother wanted to open in Bristol. She found herself telling this man everything because she couldn't recall the last time she actually had the chance to talk to someone. So she she rambled about her school days and about the bakery near their home and about her family. Her sweet, kind family that never failed to give Elle a life of normalcy. Then she realized sooner or later she'd have to tell him about the blitz, and how most of the lovely people she'd spent her evening talking about were dead. She decided to tell him later and sat in the car in silence, allowing Ian his turn to tell her stories of when he was a child. How every summer his family would go to Paris, and how he'd refuse to eat nothing but croissants during their stay. He explained to her that his mother and father loved to travel. Their summers always consisted of a different country, with different cities, and different people.

"That sounds wonderful," She whispered.

"It was," Ian mused before glancing again at Elle, "You'll see it all too, you know."

Elle sighed, "If only… But for now your stories are just as wonderful."

Ian smiled and turned his attention towards the road. They were approaching the center of the city and his sister's flat. He didn't understand why his sister still lived in the city. Many people had fled to the country, but his sister remained in London with her husband Peter. That was Rachel Forrester for you: irresistibly stubborn and unshakably certain. He glanced at Elle, who looked lost in her own thoughts, and smiled. He could practically see the visions of her imagination dancing in front of her own eyes; the eiffel tower twinkling at midnight, the canals of Venice shimmering at dawn, and the Statue of Liberty glimmering at sunset. All the places she'd long to see in person, but would only be able to envision in her mind.

"I will take you there one day," Ian muttered, some what lost in his own thoughts, "Once this bloody war is over I'll take you away and we'll go where ever you'd like. We can go to Paris and eat croissants every day for breakfast, and have wine every night in Rome. We can ride horses through Austria and climb mountains in Switzerland. Or, we can go somewhere far, far away, where we can be free from the confines of our world, and couldn't be bothered to do anything but lie down and look up at the stars."

Elle felt a smile spread across her face, and even though she couldn't see Ian's face completely, she knew he wore an identical smile. A feeling of weightlessness that was the only way Elle could describe the emotion that swept over her. The way he spoke with such sincerity and such hope made her heart sing. He was real, and he wanted to do all those things for her, not because he wanted to win her over, but simply because he wanted her to be happy. And it was in that moment that Elaina Ashworth realized that she could fall love Ian Forrester. She was shocked into silence, a pleasant silence that was only marred by her fluttering heartbeat, but it was a silence that was not meant to last. For in that moment, a loud cacophony of sirens enveloped the streets of London. The same sirens that had haunted Elle's nightmares for the past five months. The sirens of an air raid.

Ian hit the brakes faster than Elle thought possible. She reminded herself that he was a soldier. He wasn't on a date anymore. He was on a mission. A mission to find safety.

"Bugger, my sister's flat is still ten blocks from here," He muttered in frustration.

"What street are we on?" Elle asked, trying to remain calm.

"Ebury."

Ebury…

_EBURY._

She actually laughed out loud, "Bloody Brilliant! There is a God!"

And Ian promptly gave her a confused stare.

"Help me get out of this car Ian," She said, already removing her seatbelt.

"Elaina, it's not safe, we should-"

"That's an order, soldier!" She shouted, at which he propelled himself out of the car. He removed her wheelchair from the trunk, opened her door, lifted her from her seat, and placed her into her chair.

"I have a key to 155 Ebury," She told him, while she began the search in her bag for said key.

"That's just a few doors down from here," He replied, suddenly feeling hopeful about their situation. A rumble reverberated across the city and they both knew the first bomb had been dropped.

"Alright, now if you wouldn't mind," She said her voice suddenly filled with panic. She gestured to her chair, as if she were saying, "You're going to have to give me a push."

Ian complied immediately, racing down the sidewalk. Ian was jogging and Elle was already gripping a shining silver key. The streets had been enveloped in chaos. Drivers had vacated their cars in hope of finding safety and others were running aimlessly about the streets. Elle tried to focus on counting the flat numbers they passed, however, with every resounding rumble of a dropped bomb, she only saw Coventry and the tragedy that had ensued there. It wasn't until Ian was crying out, "Elle, love, give me the key," that she snapped back to the present.

She did as she was told and Ian unlocked the door. He swiftly lifted Elle up (still in her chair) and pushed her across the threshold. They stood in a hallway of a remotely empty flat and Ian pushed her farther in, glancing around the corners as if he expected someone else the be inside. There was no one. No furniture. No pictures. Nothing.

"Help!" There was a screech from outside the flat, no doubt accompanied by a helpless family with no where to go. Ian's eyes lit up, and Elle realized that he was far away from her. He was back on the front line in France, prepared to serve his country. There was another rumble, but this one was louder, closer.

"Go, help them, you've gotten me to safety, now help them," She whispered in understanding.

Ian furrowed his eyebrows, surprised by her quick realization, "Are you sure?"

"Positive. You may not have a uniform, but that doesn't mean you're not a soldier. Now, go defend your country." She ordered with a tone of sincerity.

Ian's mouth fell agape, and he was sure his mother would've scolded him for such informality, but in that moment he couldn't be bothered because he felt as if he were a blind man staring into the sun for the first time. Her words sent him into an oblivion of astonishment, for she was small and frail and gentle and kind. She was a woman who couldn't hurt a fly. But in those few words, she became a woman who was stronger than the entire British armada.

He knelt down and held her face gently, as if she would disappear before his very eyes, and whispered, "I will come back for you Elaina Ashworth, I promise you, I will always come back for you."

And before Elle could respond, he was kissing her, softly and gently, but not in fear of breaking her, but in respect of the promise he had made. Elaina was taken aback at first, but then she relaxed, and rested her hand on his. She replied tenderly, as if she were saying, "I know." The kiss was chaste, and Ian couldn't help but smile, because she was real. She was a blazing fire in the darkness their world had succumbed to. And she was real and she was his and she was kissing him back. They eventually broke free, both breathless and beaming. Ian placed one last tender kiss on Elle's forehead, and was gone, charging out the door like a soldier into battle, and Elle was left inside the flat, her lips still burning with the fire of a first kiss.

_Boom!_

The ringing of another bomb, close enough to make the building shake, snapped Elle out of her reverie.

"Oh, brace up you starry-eyed-school-girl," She internally scolded herself. She looked around calculatingly. Now, what was it that her brother had told her when they were in Coventry?

_"Listen to me Peanut, go to the basement. You run as best as you can and you don't look back. Do you understand? I know you're scared, but you need to get underground… And fast!"_

Her blue eyes sparked with determination. Basement. Got it. She rolled herself through the flat, trying to ignore the shaking of the walls and the crumbling of the asphalt from the ceiling above her. That's when she realized there was only one door downstairs, in the corner, next to an old coat rack. She wheeled herself over and quickly turned the knob and opened the door.

Elle froze.

Only a few seconds before she was ready to throw herself into the darkness that would be her safe haven, she was frozen. Although she could only see a flight of stairs that descended into darkness, Elle felt a breeze. She glanced around, wondering if there was some sort of draft, there wasn't, and peered deeply into the darkness. It was a breeze. It was warm and smelled like the summers she'd spent in the country. It was impossible, but there it was, a soft breeze beckoning Elle through the doorway. She felt suddenly nervous, suddenly hesitant about what strange mysteries waited beyond those stairs. But she wouldn't have time to debate it any longer for another explosion rattled the flat. She rolled herself forward onto a small landing that was only a few feet before the first step, and slammed the door behind her.

Darkness. That's what Elle remembered. It was dark, but it wasn't calm. Elle knew that Hell was practically raining down on the streets of London. She tried to breathe. She couldn't have an episode here. Yes, her backpack was still slung around the back of her wheelchair, but if the epinephrine didn't work… Well, she'd be out of options. The shaking and rattling continued, but through the mayhem Elle heard something strange.

Chirping birds. Were they in cages somewhere down in the basement? She furrowed her eyebrows, and noted the soft breeze once again. The breeze. The birds. And suddenly… the smell of wildflowers, and if that wasn't enough, Elle started to feel a strange prickling sensation all over her body. It was like pins and needles were tickling her skin, but it wasn't unpleasant, actually it was quite the opposite. Elle started to smile, but alas, her moment of bliss was cut short by another explosive. But this time the bomb wasn't dropped near the flat. It was dropped directly on the flat.

The detonation sent the doors into splinters and the walls into rumble. Elle found herself falling, the blast must have propelled her backwards, and now she was tumbling down the basement stairs. She was free from her chair, but she was falling, much farther than she thought reasonable for an average flight of stairs, and she couldn't stop. The tingling around her skin increased to the point of complete numbness. Elle believed she was dying. That this was it. This was finally it. But then the tingling stopped, and her body found the ground. She groaned as a dull throbbing echoed inside her head. She stretched her arms above her head and sighed, thankful that the numbness was now gone. She flexed her fingers and stroked the soft grass with her palms. She stroked _the grass_… The grass?

_THE GRASS?_

Her eyes shot open, expecting to see the wooden ceiling of a basement in London, instead to be greeted with a canopy of forest trees and a clear evening sky. Her mind was sent into a tailspin.

_What?_

_How?_

_When?_

_Am I dead? I've got to be dead._

She pinched herself and yelped. _Definitely not dead._

_Well if I'm not dead then where the bloody hell am I?_

She propped herself up on her elbows and soaked in her surroundings. She was in a forest, it was close to dusk, just as it had been in London, and speckles of orange and red still painted the horizon. The birds were chirping, just as they had been when she stood at the top of the basement stairs, and the breeze gently caressed her cheeks. Across the plain where Elle had landed, her wheelchair laid in a crumpled heap, and her backpack was somewhere among the wreckage. She had to smirk at the sight of the mangled wood, as she thought sarcastically, "Oh damn, and I was just starting to get used to it." She sat up completely and felt the grass tickle the bottom of her ankles.

Her breath stopped.

Her ankles. Her legs.

Elle immediately looked at her feet, and yanked off her tennis shoes. He toes were set free and they wiggled happily, like prisoners who'd finally been liberated. She almost had to pinch herself again. Her toes were moving. They were actually moving. Tears pricked at her eyes and she took in a deep breath.

Was this happening? Could she breathe too? First she could move her toes and now she could breathe without even a trace of an ache in her chest.

This was a dream. It had to be. But dream or not, she threw her head to the sky and shouted in pure joy. In a rush of adrenaline, Elle began to pull herself to her feet, like a baby deer using its legs for the first time. After a few failed attempts- which consisted of Elle gracefully toppling to the ground- she finally stood on her own two feet, as sturdy as a statue. She moved one foot in front of the other, they were small steps, but to Elle they were leaps and bounds. She started to remember what it was like to walk. It was a whisper of a memory, however, it was a reminder all the same. She began to walk to where she did not know, but she was walking, and it was brilliant! She started to move faster, skipping and running through the fields of the forrest. Her laughs echoed through the trees and no one could've denied that Elaina Ashworth was happier than any woman alive. Elle spun in a circle, her arms open wide as if she were saying, "Thank you!"

Then, the sound of someone clearing their throat in the distance transported Elle back from her trance. Her heart stuttered. She wasn't alone.

**A/N: A review would be appreciated :) xoxo **


	4. Chapter 4: Second Chances

**A/N: Hi! Hello! Uh... Yeah, I'm sorry this has taken a century. Hope you like it, I'm going to try and post more these next couple of weeks. I'm really loving the Braveheart soundtrack at the moment, so if you need to set the mood I'd suggest that :) Enjoy! **

**Chapter 4: Second Chances**

"_I am looking for someone to share in an adventure that I am arranging, and it's very difficult to find anyone."_

_-Gandalf the Grey_

Elle had to remind herself how to breathe. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. The euphoria that had flooded the young woman a mere moments before had receded. Suddenly the reality of her situation came tumbling down around her. She had no idea where she was, how she even came to be there, or more importantly, who was standing right behind her. After tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, she turned on her bare heel to face the enigma. Elle blinked in surprise at the figure who stood before her. He was tall. Very tall. Well, everyone was very tall compared to Elle who didn't even reach five feet. He was elderly and leaned against what Elle presumed to be a walking stick. The mysterious man had a twinkle in his blue eyes and a chuckle in the back of his throat, undoubtedly from watching Elle prance around like a fool. He was completely clothed in grey. Grey robes, grey pointy hat, grey beard. That's when Elle became perplexed. Why was this elderly man in a robe, it wasn't exactly a robe persay but it wasn't a dress either. The garment reached all the way down to the grass, matching the hat on his head, which only added to his height. His attire was, for lack of a better term, strange. Unbenounced to Elle the man was thinking the same about her short blue dress.

"Uhm, Hello, Hi, Good Evening?" Elle stuttered, suddenly finding words difficult to enunciate.

The man stood up straight, a smile forming on his lips. At last the man began to speak, "Is that a question or a statement. Are you asking if it's a good evening, or telling me good evening. Or are you simply saying that it is an evening to be good whether I want to or not… Or are you completely confused and have decided to greet me with whichever phrase comes to mind?"

Elle briefly looked like a fish gasping for air before she said, "... The last one… Definitely the last one."

The man's smile only grew before he replied, "Well, allow me to alleviate some of your confusion. I am Gandalf the Grey."

Elle had to stifle her laugh. Well, at least he was self aware. She took a few large steps and craned her neck to properly look him in the eyes.

"Elaina Ashworth," She stated, "Sorry… I don't come with a color."

"Ah, but you do," Gandalf returned while gesturing to her blue dress, "If you too were a wizard I would call you Elaina the Blue."

Elaina laughed, and then furrowed her eyebrows. Did he say wizard? Elle quickly began to realize that she was treading in unfamiliar waters. Not only was she completely lost… and alone... She was with a mad man.

"I'm sorry, did you say wizard?" She asked, trying to keep her tone neutral.

Gandalf squinted his eyes upon sensing Elle's unease. He took in her peculiar state of dress: a deep blue dress, that was far too short for a woman with any sense of propriety, and bare feet. He noted her light hair and eyes and asked, "Are you from Rohan my lady?"

Elle's mouth fell agape again. Rohan? Was that even a word? That couldn't be a real place. Could it? Maybe it was in Russia, or Germany. Perhaps the door she fell through lead to some sort of teleportation device. Teleportation? Was she seriously considering bloody teleportation as a rational conclusion for her current predicament. Elle massaged the bridge of her nose. She was actually losing her mind. She sighed before replying, "Where is Rohan? And you're avoiding my question."

Gandalf was not oblivious to her distress and said soothingly, "I am whom they call the wandering wizard, and you, my lady, seem to be lost."

"I'm not lost… I'm just..." Elle glanced around at the trees, hoping to find something familiar, but all she could see were leaves and clear sky.

"Perhaps you have business in the Shire?" The wizard offered.

"The what?"

The wizard's eyes squinted as smiled slightly. The young woman truly was far from home if she hadn't even _heard_ of the Shire. He then asked, "Where are you from Lady Elaina?"

Elaina's eyes were tightly shut as she tried to sort through reasonable options for landing in a forest. She finally sighed, "London… technically."

Gandalf's eye sparked with realization. He had heard of this, London, before. Once... a very long time ago. He continued, "Ah… then I assume you are not familiar with the likes of Hobbits."

"You assume…" Elle felt her heart racing, and tried to cover her nerves by saying, " Well, what makes you say that, we could have lots of… whatever you just said in London."

The sun was finally setting, and the wizard remembered that he had previous engagements. He examined Elle, who was biting the nail of her thumb. Gandalf couldn't help but feel a wave of sympathy towards the young woman. She looked so tiny, so frail, but he could see the spark of determination that was captured in her eyes. She was a force to be reckoned with. She was far more than she seemed. An idea crept its way into the wizard's mind, an idea that was bound to yield an adventure, or misfortune, or both.

"I wish to do you no harm my lady," The wizard consoled, eager to be on his way, hopefully, with a new fair haired companion.

Elle looked across the field at the crumpled mess that was once her wheelchair. A wheelchair that she needed to use for survival a mere five minutes ago. Why was she questioning this? Wasn't this everything she'd always dreamed of? Air in her lungs and solid ground beneath her feet? She could walk. She could run. She could do do all the things she'd always dreamt of. She should've felt free, but instead Elle felt like there was a rock in the pit of her stomach. A rock that was dragging her all the way back to London.

_I will come back for you. I will always come back for you. _Ian's words stung like the crack of a whip. She saw his face. His kind face and his soft green eyes. There was another pang in her heart. She shouldn't miss him. She had just met him. What did she expect to happen? They'd fall in love, marry, have children? Who was she kidding? Before her tumble down the stairs she had less than two months to live. She couldn't do that to Ian. Back in London she was a patient, she was sitting on her deathbed, and being Ian's wife, would only have reserved him a seat at her funeral.

She placed a hand on her lips. He had kissed her. Her first kiss. She shook her head in an attempt to discard the memories, but Ian Forrester wouldn't leave her thoughts. He was like an unrelenting whisper in the back of her mind. _I will always come back for you._

"My lady," Gandalf said once more, taking a few steps to close the gap between them, and leaning down, staff in hand, to look Elle in the eyes, "I assure you, I am not here to harm you."

Elle tilted her head and held his blue gaze, "I'm sure you're not, but two minutes ago I was in a flat in London and now I'm in a forest, and I can _walk_ and…"

She could walk. Elle felt the glee she'd experienced a few moments ago begin to resurface. Elle felt like she was caught between two worlds. In one she was happy; in the other the ones she loved were happy.

"It all seems a bit like a dream and I can't find any sense of reality," Elle whispered, mostly to herself.

The grey wizard could sense the torment that was brewing within the young woman. He began to sort through a number of phrases to say that could cheer her up, but alas none came to him. Words of wisdom were typically his strong suit, but Gandalf too felt out of his element while dealing with the enigma that was Elaina Ashworth. London. She had mentioned London. He thought back to a time when he'd first heard of the place. It was over a century ago and in a forest much like the one surrounding them. There had been a young man and woman. They were battle-worn and weary; yet, they too spoke of London. They spoke of a cellar door and a flight of stairs descending into- Of course! How simple.

"You opened a door expecting to find a cellar, and instead you found an entire world," Gandalf deduced, knowing his words would pacify some of the young lady's apprehension.

Elle's blue eyes widened and she stuttered, "How did you-"

Gandalf placed his hand on her head as if he were soothing a wounded animal, "Do not think you are the first to bridge the gap between our separate worlds."

"I'm not?" Elle asked.

"Others too have journeyed from your world and into ours," He explained, returning his hand back to his staff, "All of whom were very pleasant, it seems that those from your world all share the same open mouths and furrowed brows."

"Hold on, separate worlds? That's… impossible." Elle breathed in disbelief.

"But it would seem that the impossible has become quite possible," Gandalf replied, a knowing twinkle shimmering in his eye.

Elle looked down towards her feet. Her free toes gently wiggled in the soft grass. She was free. Here in this bright new world she was free. Here she had been given a second chance, and Elaina Ashworth wasn't one for wasting second chances.

"Alright," She exhaled, realizing that she would have to adapt to her surroundings, "Where am I _exactly_?"

"Lady Elaina Ashworth," The wizard bowed and gestured grandly to the forest around them, "_This_ is Middle Earth."

Elle spun in a circle to look, with concealed excitement, at the new world. She nodded her head and let a smile spread across her lips, "Brilliant… and where am I in _Middle Earth_."

The wizard used his staff to point to what Elle presumed to be a dirt path, and explained, "Currently you are just east of Buckland and across the water from Hobbiton."

Elle furrowed her brow yet again, and reasoned, "And that's where the, uh, _Hobbits_ live?"

Hobbit. What a strange word.

Elle tilted her head with curiosity and asked, "What exactly is a hobbit?"

"Small folk, with large appetites," The wizard chuckled.

"So they're human."

"I suppose," Gandalf said, looking towards the path that lead away from the forest, "Although they are half as high and twice as brave."

Elle smiled, she could relate to that, "They sound like my kind of people."

The wizard chuckled, knowing that she was referring to her own stature. He looked down at the beaming woman and his eye caught a hold of a silver pendant that was hanging from her neck.

He leaned down to further inspect the trinket, "Where did you get that?"

Elle looked down at the pendant, rested her hand against the smooth surface, and replied, "I've always had it, ever since I was a baby."

The wizard's eye gleamed yet again with a sense of familiarity.

"Hm. Yes… Indeed," Gandalf mumbled. He stood up straight and examined the woman before him. How had she come across such an heirloom? How had she come into ownership of such an artifact while being an entire world away? Elle was staring up at him, her hand still resting on the pendant, and her large blue eyes full of questions. The wizard tilted his head in attempt to see something more than what was standing before him. Then he realized, what he was looking for was standing right before him! How had he not seen it before? Blue eyes? Blonde hair? Fair skin? Of course she was. How could she not be? Now, her height was a tad questionable, but that was a minor detail, for everything else was undoubtedly similar. Her small nose. Her flushed cheeks. Her swan like neck. Of course, of course, of course. He began to chuckle just looking at her.

Elle was utterly confused and inquired, "It's just a necklace… Is something wrong?"

Gandalf shook his head, "No my dear, it is actually quite _right_. Now, since you are far from home with little knowledge of this land, I shall take it upon myself to see you taken care of."

The wizard was already making his way towards the dirt path and out of the forest. Elaina scampered quickly to his side and piped, "I'll have you know I'm quite capable of taking care of myself. Besides, I could-"

"I am certain you are, but I will not have you wandering about Middle Earth without a proper guide." The wizard explained before placing a hand on Elle's shoulders, "Come now, there's much to see. Much to learn."

"And how do I know if I can trust you?" The young woman asked, and Gandalf couldn't tell is she was teasing or asking a reasonable question.

"I suppose there is no tangible way of knowing the measure of trust, but for now I do believe a helping hand will be enough," Gandalf reasoned.

Elle hadn't actually been serious. She knew if he wanted to hurt her he already would've done so, but his reply made her grin all the same.

"Where to?" She asked.

"Ah, I do believe I am expected at quite an unexpected gathering," The wizard disclosed before offering Elle his arm, "Shall we?"

And with that, the two began to walk out of the forest and towards Hobbiton. Elaina Ashworth have been from another universe, but Gandalf knew, with utter surety, that she would fit into the history of Middle Earth like a long lost puzzle piece.

* * *

About half an hour later the moon had lit the path before Elaina and Gandalf. According to the wizard they were on their way to house in Hobbiton called Bag End. Apparently his friend, Bilbo Baggins, who resided in Bag End, wasn't aware that Gandalf had practically invited over a dozen dwarves to a party at his house. Oh, yes, Elle had also learned that Middle Earth was home to many species other than humans. Dwarves were one of these. Elle tried to picture meeting a dwarf, but all she could picture was a tiny version of a person who hardly reached her elbow. In her mind a dwarf looked more like a modern day garden gnome than the fierce warriors that Gandalf had described. She'd also been advised to keep her true origin disclosed. Gandalf had told her that if anyone should ask she should pretend to be a lady of Rohan (a land she'd learned was known for horses), and that she should pretend to be travelling in search of an opportunity to earn money to help her family.

Once they reached the top of the hill above Hobbiton, Elle gasped. Even though it was now dark she could see the lush green hills, speckled with what appeared to be round colorful wooden doors, bathed in the moonlight. Fireflies danced around in the air, and the smell of wildflowers billowed in the breeze. There were groves of oak trees planted near the tops of the rolling hills, and in front of every wooden door were small gardens lined with simple wooden fences. It was stunning, and reminded Elle of the fairy tales she read as a child. Elle scurried down the hill, ignoring the pebble laden path that was now poking at her bare feet. She had refused to put her sneakers back on (they were now stored inside her backpack which was slung over her shoulder) because she wanted to relish the feeling of the dirt between her toes for as long as she could. And apparently, according to Gandalf, shoes weren't of much importance in the Shire. Once she reached the bottom of the hill she smiled up at Gandalf who was still making his descent.

"This place is... " Elle laughed at a loss for words, "Well, it's wonderful."

The wizard simply smiled at the young woman and gestured towards another path which led over a bridge. Elle continued to turn her head in every direction in attempt to see all that she could. She could only imagine what it was like during the day, bustling with little-

"Wait, where are the hobbits?" She asked.

"Probably doing what hobbits do best," The wizard chuckled.

"And that is?"

"Having dinner," Gandalf replied.

Elle felt her stomach rumble and laughed, "I would love to join them."

"And you will be soon, we are almost there," The gray wizard amended.

So they continued, and Elle had to hide her immediate disappointment at not being able to see Hobbit upon her arrival in Hobbiton. But she journeyed on, past tiny round lit windows and colored doors, until she and Gandalf were nearing a fence which was built around the large garden of an even larger Hobbit hole. The home was much larger than the other ones in Hobbiton and rested under a large oak tree. The sign on the gate or the fence read: NO ADMITTANCE EXCEPT ON PARTY BUSINESS. There was a surmisable crowd in front of the green circular door and Elle could make out a commotion coming from inside the residence.

"I'm guessing this is Bag End?" Elle teased.

"You are very right my dear, come, let us make our presence known," Gandalf replied, leading Elle through the gate and towards a mass of people standing outside the door.

Elle had to stifle her gasp. They were dwarves.

She looked around at the crowd, all of which were male dwarves and either her height or slightly shorter. She had to hide her smile as she suddenly realized that they'd probably consider her quite tall. All of the dwarves were clamoring for the doorbell, and pushing towards the door in an attempt to get inside and have a hot meal. A few of the dwarves spared a glance towards the petite blonde and the grey wizard (to which Elle responded with a giddy wave) but most of the dwarves were distracted with the task at hand. Suddenly a singular voice rang out from inside the hobbit hole.

"IF THIS IS A JOKE THEN IT IS IN VERY POOR TASTE!"

Without warning the green door was yanked open from the inside and all of the dwarves tumbled across the threshold. Gandalf stepped forward and leaned down to properly look into the home at who was undoubtedly making the racket.

Gandalf smiled mischievously at the hobbit that stood before him.

"Gandalf," Bilbo sighed.

Elle, unable to suppress her curiosity any longer, chose this moment to make her presence known, and peeked out from behind Gandalf's shoulder. Her mouth fell to the floor in childlike excitement. Before her stood a man who appeared to be the size of a child. He wore a patchwork robe and had curly sandy hair and wide brown eyes. His ears were pointed and his brows were creased with the confusion of her sudden appearance.

"You're a Hobbit!" She exclaimed.

"Uh, yes, yes I am," The hobbit replied standing up straight at the abrupt arrival of the beautiful young woman.

Elle pushed past Gandalf and into the foyer to get a closer look at the hobbit. He was small, that was certain, but he was only about 5 inches shorter than Elle which made her believe that he was probably quite tall for a hobbit. Then she noticed his feet, which were large and hairy, but instead of gasping as most would, she grinned.

"Look at your feet, that's bloody brilliant! And you're shorter than me, that's quite impressive," Elle rambled while bending down to further inspect the flustered Hobbit, "Oh, just look at you. Wow. Fantastic. Bloody fantastic."

There was a pause as Bilbo opened and closed his mouth as if trying to find something to say, and Elle realized the error of her ways.

"Oh my goodness. I've completely forgotten my manners," She amended, giving a small curtsy, "Elaina Ashworth, how do you do. You can just call me Elle, or Ellie, or 'hey you'… whatever you fancy."

Bilbo still looked shocked.

"I'm sorry, it's just I've never seen a hobbit before, and I got a bit carried away. Do forgive me for barging in uninvited. I just met Gandalf and he insisted I come along," Elle explained.

"Of course he did," The hobbit sighed before giving a bow, "Bilbo Baggins, pleased to make your acquaintance."

**A/N: Review? I've missed hearing from you wonderful people :) **


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